


F for Effort

by Brachylagus_fandom



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, Lack of Communication, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, Pre-Slash, ToT: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8179639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brachylagus_fandom/pseuds/Brachylagus_fandom
Summary: Communication is not a forte of either of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenellaevangela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenellaevangela/gifts).



Mallory High was not a place to look for superheroes. Besides the typical issues of inability to conceal injuries and/or powers and inflexible schedules, seemingly everyone in the school was obsessed with their cities' supers. Even now, after the tardy bell had rung and in the classroom of one of the school's strictest teachers, students were eagerly discussing last night's fight between Starfall and the duo of Odin and Valkyrie.

"Did you see Valkyrie land that guy? Starfall's like twice her height!"

"He still kicked her ass earlier. She flew twelve feet without her wings."

"Which should make her win more impressive since she probably had broken bones."

"I wouldn't call that a win for her, more like a loss for Starfall…"

"I don't care what you call it, that was some badass fighting. If she wasn't with Odin…"

"Since you're all so excited about the lives of superheroes, can I assume that you've memorized the material and want to take your test without calculators?" Mr. Edwards was met with a sea of groans, pleas not to do it, and apologies. "You have until the bell rings. All electronic devices away." Silence reigned as pencils scratched frantically against paper.

About ten minutes into the test, a girl sitting in the middle of the class tried to discreetly pull out her phone. "Mary, bring your test and phone up now." Once the test paper was ripped in two and the phone was locked in his desk, Mr. Edwards began to write a referral slip. "Your homework, in addition to the Chapter Five questions, is to write a 500-word essay on a famous case of academic dishonesty. I will be talking to Mr. Johnson about this." Mary huffed and went back to her seat, and Mr. Edwards had a sinking feeling that he was in for yet another phone call from her father.

 _At least I'm free,_ he thought. _Though honestly, the difference between prison, the labs, and this place is the paint color. And no one else is stupid enough to cheat on my watch._ He looked up. "Mark, test, now!" _No one with any sense of self-preservation, at least._

***

Dr. Smith didn't even look up from his pile of papers as Mr. Edwards walked in. His room still smelled like smoke, even though Fridays were test days for the science department and, to the best of his knowledge, there hadn't been a fire lab that week. "I'm somewhat busy, Bob, in case you can't see. Has one of your students tried to build a death ray again?"

"No, though I still have hope for Cathy," Mr. Edwards replied, "but that's beside the point. Is Liz alright? That was a bit more than a love tap last night." Dr. Smith sighed and set aside his stack of tests.

"She was up and walking fifteen minutes after you _shot her in the head_ , Bob. We both know my sister's more or less unkillable. Have they at least stopped thinking we're married?" Mr. Edwards laughed.

"Nope, and they're still focusing on the wrong ass in all those close-ups."

"Oh?"

"I'd much prefer to see yours blasted across my TV screen. I mean, she looks like an angel with those wings, but if I had to pick the hotter one, it would definitely be you."

"Bob, you _tried to kill my sister_ and _bombed SciCorp_ and I have students who will be here any minute. Leave while we both have some dignity."

***

The following Monday, Mary skipped his class and Dr. Smith came in late, covered with bruises. Mr. Edwards tried to push it out of his mind, but some foolish corner of his brain that still worried about people was screaming that Odin and Valkyrie weren't patrolling last night, those injuries were too fresh to be from a Saturday mishap, and something was definitely wrong with this situation.

When he walked in, Dr. Smith was staring blankly at his hands. "I don't," he said, voice quavering, "want to talk about it."

"Give me a name," Mr. Edwards replied. Half and hour and much coaxing later, the names were etched into his brain. That night, he pulled the red suit he'd been trying to leave behind out of its box in his closet. Someone needed avenging, and Dantes was nothing but an avenger.

For the next week, he found a cup of hot coffee on his desk every morning. Dr. Smith said nothing, so he said nothing back. They got along better when they weren't talking.

***

It was just after midterms when they caught him. He had made too many enemies to know exactly who had caught him: SciCorp, the Trasks, Prospero, the Rising Dark, the list went on and on. He deserved it, really; he'd been careless, not really paying attention to his surroundings when he still lived in a city where one of the tallest skyscrapers had "SciCorp Industries" written on the side.

No one cared about Dantes. He was the kind of maniac who tried to blow up corporations and the kind of idiot who tried to save little old ladies from muggers and teenagers from themselves. If he never went back to school, most of his students would celebrate. There would be no manhunt for him, and when his body washed up in the river, no one would cry at his funeral. Well, maybe Cathy would, but Cathy was more a collection of neurons and broken edges than she was a person. When he finally slipped past the pain and fell asleep, he didn't expect to wake up.

He woke in a warm bed that smelled of smoke with his injuries bandaged and a glass of water on the bedside table. By the fifth night, he had disappeared off of the map, trying to figure out who caught him and how. When school started again, Dr. Smith found hot cups of coffee on his desk for two weeks. Mr. Edwards said nothing, he said nothing, and life went on.

Falling in love with the enemy was too cliche, even if they weren't exactly enemies anymore. There were classes to teach and exams to grade; add in patrols and Dr. Smith had no time to fall in love. Besides, Mallory High was not a place to look for love stories.

Funnily enough, they said the same thing about superheroes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for prompting this! My mind flitted from "gay organization" to "GSA", which somehow connected to "gay teachers in not-hate". This crack is my offering to you.
> 
> In case of confusion:  
> Liz=Valkyrie=Dr. Smith's sister  
> Mr. Edwards=Bob=Dantes  
> Dr. Smith=Odin
> 
> Most of the naming in this falls along a theme of literature because I'm pretty lazy with names.


End file.
